


Your Heart's the Moon

by Kedavranox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Complicated Relationships, Drug Use, Fight Sex, Groping, Love Triangles, M/M, Oral Sex, Passion, Public Scene, Remix, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedavranox/pseuds/Kedavranox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon/ And I'm aiming right at you/ Right at you</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Heart's the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Be Redeemed](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/43465) by Mijeli. 



> Originally posted on [LJ](http://hd-remix.livejournal.com/61003.html) for HD-Remix

**Author:** kedavranox  
 **Title:** Your Heart's the Moon  
 **Pairing(s):** Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon/ And I'm aiming right at you/ Right at you  
Based on the art [Be Redeemed](http://hd-fanart.livejournal.com/278724.html) by [](http://mijeli.livejournal.com/profile)[**mijeli**](http://mijeli.livejournal.com/)  
 **Word Count:** ~3,800  
 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. Art by mijeli.  
 **Author's notes** : Title and summary taken from Eminem’s ‘Space Bound’. Thank you to all who helped me with this fic. W, M and F. [](http://mijeli.livejournal.com/profile)[**mijeli**](http://mijeli.livejournal.com/), thanks for letting me tinker with your art. I hope you enjoy reading this.

 

** your heart's the moon **

It hits me like an orgasm. One of those slow ones that creeps through your blood from somewhere even deeper than your balls and you’re not even sure if you’re actually _coming_ or if the sex is just _that_ good.

I close my eyes and lean back against the sofa. The music is pounding all around me, but it’s only a vague noise pulsing in the back of my mind — dull and monotonous. I can only feel the deep vibrations of the maddeningly incessant baseline. It rattles even down to my bones.

I think, at some point, I might have forgotten how breathing works. I keep having to remind myself that it’s necessary, and then I’m forced to suck in one single deep, shuddering breath. It feels amazing. Like the first breath I’ve ever taken. I don’t know where Draco gets his drugs, but he must spend at least a few hundred Galleons a week on it. It’s pure, strong and undiluted. My fingertips are numb. Moving seems to come to me like a second thought. Everything happens too slowly, as though someone else is pulling on my limbs from strings like a puppeteer.

His hand is on my thigh, warm and so very _there._ Its _there_ -ness consumes my thoughts. It’s as if the heat of his fingers could burn through my jeans. As if his hand is the only thing I can touch. His fingers tighten around my knee, and I glance up at the ceiling. It’s too dark for me to see anything. Strobe lights are flashing, blinding me, making me feel as if I’m floating upwards and his hand on my thigh is the only thing keeping me grounded.

I could almost be content to just sit here and ride the high, but it never turns out that way. I always end up doing something stupid — usually something involving the hand still resting on my thigh, inching slowly upwards now, his fingernails digging into my jeans. Coy bastard. I absently push his hand away and he slides across my body, settling into my lap, straddling me. When I feel his erection brush against mine, I roll my hips just to prolong the moment.

He leans over me and his hair brushes across my nose. He braces himself with his arms on either side of my head and I turn my face to the right, mere inches away from the Dark Mark. The snake slithers closer to me, baring its fangs, uncoiling itself sinuously. I reach out to touch it with my tongue. His skin is salty, and he shudders on top of me as I taste him. Draco nudges my cheek with his palm, and I look up into his eyes. A flash of yellow light illuminates his face; his pupils are blown wide, and his lips are shiny and slightly parted.

Of their own accord, my hands slide up the length of his thighs until they settle on his arse. It’s firm, but still pliant, and I am limp and languid beneath him. I don’t think I can even lift my head; it’s heavier than I ever realised. I don’t even have to; Draco leans forward and kisses me. His deft tongue snakes out and he licks my lower lip. Kissing him when I’m like this feels like a thousand little pressure points are pulsing in my body. My cock hardens. He slips his tongue inside my mouth and the texture of his tongue drags across my own. He kisses me thoroughly, slowly, as if we’re just about to shag on my sofa at home and we’re not in the middle of a nightclub, sitting on a leather couch where almost anyone could spot us.

I slip my fingers beneath his shirt and the skin at the base of his spine is damp with sweat. My palm slides easily up the hard ridges of his spine and he groans into my mouth. Just as I’m just about to lift my hips to feel his cock again, the pocket of my jeans begins to vibrate. Surprised, I push him away a little and he almost falls, but I steady him with my palm splayed on his back.

I lift my arse up to grab my phone from my back pocket, and when I glance apologetically at Draco he doesn’t look amused. In fact, he looks really pissed off. I look down at the bright screen and it’s Hermione’s number. I frown. Hermione knows where I am and who I’m with, so she wouldn’t call. Unless something terrible happened. Which I highly doubt. Which leaves Ron or Ginny. Ron still hasn’t got the hang of mobiles, so chances are it’s Gin, and if it’s her, I really, really shouldn’t answer.

I don’t know how long I’ve been staring stupidly at the screen, but my trance is broken when Draco grabs the phone from my hand and slides his thumb across the touch screen to answer.

I honestly have no idea when he learned to do that, it took me fucking ages.

‘He’s busy, Granger,’ he shouts over the music. I reach to grab the phone from him, but he pulls away from my grasp, and when he looks up at me his gaze is startled and unsure.

Definitely Ginny then.

_Shit._

I shift forward to grab the phone, but he lifts his index finger in that ‘ _hold on_ ’ gesture I absolutely despise. I have no idea what Ginny’s saying to him, but he lifts his eyebrow slowly and then his gaze locks onto mine. ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ he drawls. I rock my hips to unsettle him. He gives me an annoyed look and pushes himself off of me, then walks away, taking my mobile phone somewhere with him into the darkness of the club.

I sit for a few seconds alone on the sofa biting my thumbnail, wondering what they could be talking about. After about a minute, I push myself off and follow his lead, pushing past sweaty bodies and wandering hands. Someone spills their drink on my shoes, but I ignore the profuse apologies and head for the loo. I find him there, leaning against the dingy wall, a finger wedged in his ear, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

‘You know, Weasley, that might be true, but _I’m_ the one –’

I can hear Ginny shouting on the phone even from where I’m standing and I wince.

Draco closes his eyes and shifts his stance, turning his back away from me and resting his palm against the stall.

‘Did he say that to you?’

I’m torn between wanting to know what they’re talking about and ending the conversation between them before it gets ugly. Which – by the tense look of Draco’s shoulders – is going to happen in just a few seconds.

Ginny’s strident tone is still buzzing loudly from the speaker, and even Draco pulls it from his ear a little bit.

‘If you would just –’ he says

More shouting from Ginny.

‘Oh _fuck you_ , you crazy bint,’ Draco finally shouts. ‘It’s your own fault he’s out looking for something better.’

I blame the drugs for my slow reaction. When I finally gather my wits, I step fully into the bathroom and grab the mobile from Draco’s hand before he even has a chance to fully register that it’s me. He looks up at me, grey eyes wide, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

I poke at Draco’s chest with my index finger. ‘Don’t you ever talk to her like that again,’ I say. My voice echoes loudly in the bathroom, and sheer force of it startles even me.

I lift the phone to my ear and walk out of the loo before Draco can even respond.

‘It’s me,’ I say. ‘Just give me a second.’

I hold the phone against my chest and quickly make my way to the back exit. I take a few seconds to catch my breath before I press my palm flat against the iron door leading outside, _Alohomora_. The door swings open and the bitingly cold winter air hits me hard in the face.

I lean against the wall, close my eyes and lift the phone to my ear.

‘Hey.’

Ginny sighs. ‘You’re with Malfoy.’

I rest my head against the cold stone wall, nodding as if she can see me. 'It’s not the way you’re thinking.’

Luckily, she doesn’t respond to that. I don’t even know why I said it, because it’s a lie and we both know that.

‘This isn’t the best time, Gin.’

‘You sound like you’re on something.’

I push off the wall with my heel and walk across the alley to the other side. There’s moss growing between the stones. I scratch at it with my nail. ‘Yeah.’

‘For God’s sake, Harry.’ Ginny takes an audible breath and I close my eyes, waiting for the outburst.

‘I know you said you were confused.’ She pauses. ‘I know you’re _...experimenting_. But, Malfoy?’

I pick the fleck of moss from beneath my fingernail and shrug. ‘I like him.’

Ginny sighs and the static flickers between us for a few long seconds. ‘How could you possibly like him, Harry?’

‘I don’t know, Gin. I feel good when he’s around.’

‘You’re high when he’s around.’

‘Not all the time.’

‘You ask me for space, and suddenly you're spending all your time with Malfoy?’

There’s the guilt I’ve been waiting for. It pushes itself neatly into my veins. I take a deep breath and try to push it away. Of course, it doesn’t work. ‘This isn’t about space, Gin, we both know that.’

There's a muffled sound and then Ginny’s voice comes back with a slight waver. ‘So, what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying maybe we should think about moving on, you know? Things haven’t been right between us for a long time.’

‘Haven’t they?’

The heavy iron door to the club opens and Draco walks out, holding my leather jacket in his hand. He’s haphazardly thrown his unbuttoned grey peacoat over his shirt, and his eyes are a little red and his cheeks are a little flushed, but there’s a cigarette dangling from his lips and a dangerous lock of white blond hair halfway covering his face. I look away from him because I know I shouldn't feel this way for someone else with my girlfriend holding on the line.

‘He’s going to hurt you, you know,’ Ginny says softly.

‘You’re probably right.’

‘But you don’t care.’

Draco hands me my jacket and his fingers brush against mine. They’re still warm from inside the club, and he gives me a look as if to say, _‘What now, Potter?’_

‘Gin, I should go.’

Ginny doesn’t say goodbye, she just hangs up on me. I stare at the mobile for a second , turning it over in my palm and trying to ignore the voice in my head that’s shouting for me to call her back and fix this properly.

I slip the phone into the inner pocket before shoving my arms into the sleeves of my jacket and look at Draco instead.

He takes one last drag of his fag and stubs it out with his boot on the damp stone pavement.

‘How’s the ball and chain?’ he asks.

Something in me just snaps. I lunge forward and shove him hard in the chest and he staggers backwards, his eyes wide.

‘Why did you have to say that to her?’ I say, catching in the shoulder with another hard shove. ‘Why do you have to be such a prick all the time?’

Draco holds up his hands. ‘I’m sorry, all right? She gets under my skin.’

‘Well, you get under mine!’

I stand there, panting and annoyed, clenching my fists because I desperately want to hit him in his smug face.

Draco licks his lower lip carefully and then, after the slightest hesitation, closes the space between us and kisses me hard. His hands are beneath my jacket and his nails dig into my back, almost tearing at my skin. I lean away from him and shove him. He stumbles backwards and his back slams against the brick wall behind him.

He gives me an exasperated look and I yank his coat open wide enough so that it’s almost falling off his shoulders. I tug on the collar of his shirt and pull open his thin silk shirt. The top two buttons pop open and scatter to the pavement. His pale but flushed collarbones are exposed and he wraps his arms around my waist, tugging me forward. He slips his hand past the waistband of my jeans but I push it away, wanting the upper hand. I slide my thigh between his and lean up against him, invading his space, pressing him into the wall and holding him in place with my hand around his throat. I slide my tongue along the length of his throat, and when he shudders I bite down hard. Tomorrow there will be bruises there, marking him.

‘Fucking hell, Potter.’

Draco scowls and shoves me off him much harder than I’d ever give him credit for, and I stumble and fall on my arse. He rolls his eyes and steps forward to give me a hand up. I take it and yank him roughly and he falls heavily forward, landing hard on the stones with a displeased grunt.

‘You prick.’

He rolls over on his back beside me, panting, and I glance over at him and wince. His hands are scratched and slightly bleeding. One look at them sends him lunging straight at me, and we scramble together, rolling around like a pair of brawling tomcats. I’m heavier than he is, so of course I get the upper hand and push him onto his back, pinning his hands down above his head. I straddle his thighs and reel back to punch him in the face. His eyes are wide and afraid, as if he didn’t see this coming — as if he didn’t expect me to be this upset.

I pull back on the force of the blow the last second, but I still give him a good hit. He curses and grapples with me, knocking my hands aside and then he catches me in the face with his fist. I barely feel it; I only realise how good he got me when the blood starts flowing from my nose.

I lean back on my haunches and he pushes himself up on his elbows, watching me apprehensively

‘You fucking hit me,’ I say, wiping the blood with my sleeve.

‘To be fair, I really didn’t think I’d get you that hard.’

‘Well, you did, you wanker.’

Draco sits up fully and reaches into his sleeve. ‘Here, let me heal it.’

He murmurs the spell and cleans the blood off my face. We sit there, panting and staring at each other like idiots, our faces only inches away from each other and then I start thinking about kissing him.

I sigh and pull away. The cold is starting to get to me, so I stand and help him up, too.

‘That was stupid,’ I say, dusting off my jeans.

‘Very. You got blood on my coat.’

‘ _You_ got blood on your coat. Prick.’

Draco buttons himself up and then yanks at the collar of my jacket. ‘Come here.’

He kisses me softly and I let him because I want it. My mouth still tastes slightly of blood and I wonder if he can taste it, too. I push my hips against him and let his wandering tongue do what it wants. He’s always been the better kisser, always been the one to take the lead. Draco grips the back of my head and our teeth clank against each other. He touches my cheek with his fingertips. They burn there, they burn in my heart, too.

I might actually hate him. Or love him.

I can never tell.

He cups my cock through my jeans and I deepen the kiss, pushing his jacket up so I can grab his arse in my palms. He shoves his hands beneath my shirt, pushing his flat palm all the way up between my shoulder blades, rucking up my shirt and my jacket, exposing my back to the cold air. I know what he’s looking for, he wants to feel the warmth of my tattoo against my skin. It’s always warm, not matter how cold I am.

When we part again, his lips are bruised and his breaths are heavy. He just stares at me, with his stupid wide eyes and his breath that smells like cigarettes and scotch. I stare right back, and my breath is unsteady and why is it always so _intense_ with him?

He pulls me along with him as he steps backwards out of the alley, into the empty side street, and stops beside someone’s parked car at the side of the road. I stupidly stumble a bit, but he only smiles at my apparent inability to walk a straight line.

He leans back against the car and yanks me forward. I stop myself from pitching into him by bracing my palms against the ice cold car windows. ‘Goddamit, Draco’

He grabs my arsecheeks, spreading them apart as far as they can go in my jeans. His nails scratch against the denim. The music from the club vibrates against the car, making my fingertips tingle. Draco rocks his hips against me and I groan.

He smiles. ‘Come on, Potter. Let’s go home.’

The sentence is barely out of his mouth before I Apparate us both to my flat. Draco stumbles backwards and looks around at the mess. I haven’t cleaned in days. There are old beer bottles everywhere, empty takeout boxes, and a few t-shirts and pants thrown about for good measure.

I shrug out of my jacket and toss it on the sofa. Draco raises his eyebrow but does the same with his.

‘When was the last time you left this flat?’ Draco asks, balancing with one hand on the sofa and toeing off his boots.

I shrug and unzip my jeans. ‘A couple days ago.’

Draco gives me a look as he unbuttons his shirt. ‘Translation: the last time I dragged you out of this shithole. Which was almost two weeks ago, Harry.’

‘Shut up.’

Draco stops undressing and looks at me for a long time. ‘You’re still pissed off with me, aren’t you?’

I push off my jeans and tug off my shirt, dropping it in the same pile with my other things.

Draco licks his lips, clearly wavering between just getting on with the fucking or actually trying to talk this out. His eyes drop to my crotch, and the sex wins out. He always gets distracted when I’m naked. He beckons me over, and drops to his knees when I stop in front of him.

He’s good at cocksucking. I wouldn’t be in this mess if he wasn’t. So it’s not long before he has me high again — this time on sex. I close my eyes and thrust into the heat of his mouth. He lets me go deep, and I like that. He never tries to hold me back by pushing at my hips, not like Ginny did. He just lets me get on with it the way I want to. I thread my fingers in his hair and make him gag on it. He looks up at me, making eye contact and staying there because he knows I like to watch. I like to see my cock slipping between those pink lips.

I pull out before coming because I want him to fuck me first. Draco leans back on his haunches and gives me a self-satisfied look. One of those looks that makes it obvious he’s about to say something prickish.

‘Does she suck you off like that, too?’ he asks, innocently, wiping at a bit of precome from his lip with his thumb and blinking up at me.

‘You never know when to shut up, do you?’

Draco shrugs and stands. ‘I fuck you whenever you come calling, Potter. I can say what I want.’

‘You don’t get to talk about Ginny.’

A flicker of fury flashes across Draco’s gaze and he steps closer to me, getting right up in my face. ‘I can’t talk about your precious Weasley? You can’t even get it up to fuck her. How does that relationship work, Harry? Please tell me, because I’m confused.’

‘Draco –’

‘Does she even know you keep her dangling on a string? That we’re both your little puppets, answering every time you call…’

‘Draco, I broke it off with Ginny.’

Draco steps backwards and blinks at me, his grey eyes wide. ‘You — what?’

‘We’re splitting up. It’s over.’

Draco laughs shortly. ‘You’re splitting up, after all this time?’ He walks away from me and starts pacing, the ends of his trousers dragging on the wooden floor. ‘Nope. No. I don’t believe you.’ He stops his pacing and gives me a sceptical look. He shakes his head. ‘You’re too fucking scared of what you want to actually _do_ something about it.’

‘I’m not,’ I say. ‘I’m not scared, Draco.’

Draco blinks and bites his lip. ‘Is this –’ His gaze flicks away and back. ‘Are you sure, Potter? Are you sure when she comes around and she gives you _that face_ you’re not going to just chuck it all in again? Because I’m not sure. I’m not fucking sure.’

‘Draco, that’s not going to happen.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Draco’s voice wavers and he pushes a lock of his hair off his forehead with an unsteady hand.

Instead of talking and ruining this moment even more with stupid words, I just go over to him and kiss him. He’s shaking, and his heart is racing, and I hold him and tell him, ‘It’s not going to happen.’

I kiss him, and he kisses me back and _this_ is us.

We fuck. We fight. I kick him out on his arse; he punches me in the face. I cut him down to size; he tells me I’m the world’s biggest prick. I tell him he loves it; he tries to deny it. He comes back to me; he lets me touch his scars. We take drugs. We fuck. We fight.

Then, like clockwork, we begin again.


End file.
